


Unavoidable Truths

by OwlOfDeath



Series: Beyond Sand and Sea [12]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Big Sisters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fantasy, Gen, Loss, Original Character(s), Sibling Love, Vol'Dun, vulpera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29040867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlOfDeath/pseuds/OwlOfDeath
Summary: The sun is standing high in the sky over the blistering Vol'dun desert, and Jona isn't where he's supposed to be. With a tiny lump in her throat Mikka goes searching for her little brother.
Series: Beyond Sand and Sea [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792156
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Unavoidable Truths

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on "loss".

A desert made all kinds of noises, alive in spite of its arid appearance, wind whistling and singing around the rocks and dunes, insects skittering just out of sight, sand and dust sliding and shifting in constant motion. It was often quiet, but never silent. The early afternoon sun was relentless and scorching, baking the world with a dry heat that parched your nose and throat with every breath. 

It wasn’t a good time for young vulpera to go wandering off, and her brother _knew_ that.

Mikka placed a hand on the sand-swept rock as she squatted down, tilting her head far to one side to peek in under the outcrop. There was a low little nook beneath it, between the rock above and the sand below. The sudden change from glaring light to deep shade made it hard for her to see, but the moment her eyes adjusted she spotted him, huddled all the way inside. Her mild annoyance quickly gave way to relief. “There you are,” she sighed softly, her shoulders visibly lowering. 

Jona didn’t answer, didn’t as much as look up. It didn’t really surprise her as such, and she was just about to give him an earful for making them all worry, but the moment she noticed the despondent expression on his face it made her pause. Her gaze slowly drifted to the familiar glass jar in his hands, priorities quickly changing. “Jojo,” she started carefully, _tenderly_ , “what happened?”

She could tell how he choked up as soon as he tried to speak, the tears welling up disproportionately large for his kit sized face, even with those big, deep amber eyes of his. The round, fat droplets rolled down his cheeks slowly, drawing dark streaks through his sandy red fur. “She’s not moving,” he whispered hoarsely, almost too low for her to hear, his voice failing him. 

Mikka got down on her hands and knees, squeezing nimbly in under the rocky outcrop. It was deep and hung low, the sand untouched by the sun feeling almost cool under her paw pads. She was too big to get all the way inside to him, but she came closer, and he shuffled the last bit to meet her half way. He was sniffling quietly, hiccupping as he tried to stifle the sobs. “ _Why_?” he whimpered, the pitch of his voice rising as he spoke, fighting against the tightness in his throat, “what did I do _wrong_?”

She extended her arm for him, inviting him into her embrace, but he didn’t let her hug him all the way. “You didn’t do anything _wrong_ ,” she said in a low tone, her hand gently rubbing his trembling back, “these things just happen.” He was so small, even for his young age, the bumps along his spinal column so clearly felt through his shirt. 

“But I took care of her,” he argued insistently, almost heatedly. “We gave her water and food and kept her safe! Then you’re not supposed to die!” Jona sniffed again, almost whining as he added, “it’s not _fair_.” 

She knew that he knew what death was, he’d seen it before. They all had. You couldn’t live in Vol’dun and not know it. Death came from any number of places, but this was different. It was a quiet passing, no one had eaten it, there had been no fatal mistake made. It had been moving around like usual the night before, she had seen it climbing his arm, tickling his fur with those tiny barbed feet. It was just a life snuffed out, rolling over and going totally, irreversibly still without any clear point or reason. Of course that would be hard to understand, and no less difficult to explain. 

“Some things are just out of our control.”

Jona loosened the strap holding the cloth in place over the jar’s opening, carefully tipping the lifeless beetle out into his palm. It was almost as big as his hand. The critter wasn’t a rare find, if you knew where to look, but it was no less beautiful for that, carapace shimmering in vivid greens and purples when it reflected the light. But in the shade it appeared dull and colourless, almost black.

“For you too?” he asked after a long moment, glancing her way.

“For me too,” she told him candidly, voice warm and reassuring as she went on, “but we try our best anyway.” His tears had dried, replaced by that brooding expression, that small frown on his face that made him look so serious, older than he actually was, in spite of his small and skinny frame. “Shall we go tell Kirin?” she tried, picking the jar up, “let him say goodbye too?”

“He’s too little to understand,” Jona murmured somberly, chin on his knees. He moved his hand a little, the beetle in his palm swaying from side to side, legs in the air.

“You can always say you let her out,” Mikka suggested, slowly petting the fur on his head, stroking his long ear through her hand all the way from the base to the wispy tip affectionately, the darker fur there impossibly silky. “That you set her free.”

“I don’t want to lie to him,” he said firmly and without hesitation, suddenly raising his gaze from the critter to meet her eyes levelly. For someone so young he looked so mature in that moment, she couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s good,” she agreed, “you shouldn’t lie, even about difficult things.” Mikka tilted her head at him as she continued in a slightly teasing tone. “But if you’re going to hide, don’t be so careless and let me sneak up on you.”

“I heard you coming,” he said defensively, “I just didn’t want to leave.”

Mikka’s face cracked into a toothy grin. “Of course you did, with those huge ears I’d be surprised if you miss anything.” She ruffled his fur a little roughly, playfully, and he tried to push her hand away all shy and embarrassed. He always did, but she knew he liked it. She could tell. 

“We can’t just leave Icky here,” he said all of a sudden, giving words to his thoughts as they occurred to him and effectively negating her attempt at a cheerier mood. “What if something eats her?” 

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing, if she could be food and give life to something else?”

“Who would want to eat a dead beetle anyway,” Jona muttered gloomily, expertly finding the negative in her attempt at optimism. It was so typically him she felt almost disappointed in herself she hadn’t seen it coming. He placed the beetle on the sand in front of him, giving the hard body a tiny poke, stroking his fingertip along its side in a way that made her heart ache.

“There’s always something that would eat anything, if they’re hungry enough,” Mikka assured him softly, extending her free hand to him, palm up. He shot her a sidelong glance but then took it, leaving their pet behind as he followed. “You can ride on my back on the way home,” she offered as she shuffled backwards on her knees, trying not to step on her tail or hit her head on the low, sand-smoothed rock above, brother in one hand and jar in the other.

“I’m big enough to walk on my own,” he mumbled, still not letting go of her, and she had to fight to keep the knowing grin from overtaking her face. 

He really was. 

“Yes, but getting a ride is more _fun_ ,” she insisted, pulling him along and out into the sunshine. “Come on!”


End file.
